


there are no cigarettes in space

by kingwise



Series: there are words i can't speak written into my ribcage [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Extended Metaphors, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gay Keith (Voltron), Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Insecurity, M/M, Season/Series 03, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-01-15 11:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12320118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingwise/pseuds/kingwise
Summary: They were the bruised fruits at the back of the basket, the unwanted children holding their hearts in their silence. In retrospect, Lance wished he had something more to hold, because as his heart had withered to ash, it smoldered in his hands and burned.(alternatively, where everything is the mostly the same but when you love someone, their words leave impressions on your skin. lance's pov)





	1. i. falling

**Author's Note:**

> **EDIT** I JUST WANNA SAY,,,,, WOAH I REACHED 100 KUDOS!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR UR SUPPORT
> 
> my first klance fic!! first lance pov! second vld fic! wow majority of this was written pre season 4 btw
> 
> tw: mind the tags. past child abuse is a one sentence mention only, and no smoking actually occurs in the story, it happened in the past. the panic attack is non graphic. no smut. lance and keith are both 17, so that's not underage to me and in my area, but it depends.
> 
> uhm theres !no smut! but kissing is a thing!
> 
> check the end notes for information regarding all the footnotes throughout the fic
> 
>  **IMPORTANT NOTES ABOUT THIS SOULMATE AU**  
>  the words thing is more of a metaphor than the focus of the fic lol but when you love someone, their impressions of their words (BUT ONLY THE ONES THEY MEAN REALLY STRONGLY) get scratched into your skin. like if my hypothetical SO said "i love you" that'd be traced into my skin. it works with platonic relationships as well. in order for words to show, you have to love the person more than you love yourself kinda deal. 
> 
> another important note: "soulmates" can only see each other's words if they mutually accept (and feel secure with) the love they feel for the other person.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ok go !

_there are no cigarettes in space_  
_by kingwise_

 

* * *

  
**i.**  
Lance was drowning.

“Death is somewhat like an ocean, _mi hijo_ ,” his mother would say, “it surrounds us on all sides. You and I, were on the island of our lives, and the water will wash us home.”

Lance was a swimmer. He loved the rush he felt from pushing his muscles until they burned. He loved the silkiness of the water, the blurred reality beneath the surface of the waves. He loved the tides, the push and pull, the balance. God, did he miss Varadero Beach. He always went there after school, when he had the time. Unlike people, the ocean was always there. Good days or bad, the waves would still crash.

He always thought the ocean was a microcosm for the universe. In the sea, rocks eroded gently under the waves and rushes of water until they turned to sand. Eventually, we’d all return to dust. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

Lance was a swimmer. He used to always be comforted by the water, it was his element. Yet somehow, Lance still managed to drown. His lungs were wrapped in the dust from the tides, coated with the ashes of their hearts. His skin felt tight around his ribcage, and no matter how much he screamed and yelled and cried he couldn’t find his way to the goddamn surface. Well, Lance always was his own worst enemy.

He had always thought he’d burn. Purple eyes, ashes, flames. That’s how he’d thought he’d go.

Lance once had a friend who was very religious. She always said that, yes, water was purity and life. Water was rebirth. But she also said, contrary to popular belief, that fire was much the same way. Fire was much more than destruction. Like water, it brought life and warmth and comfort. But too much of a good thing was dangerous. Both were perilous. Both brought about biblical disasters. She said God was trying to warn them that they should fear drowning just as much as they feared being burned. He knew that now.

The fact of the matter was, he and Keith were in a war. He was in love with Keith. Lance was pretty sure he knew how this would end: him six feet underwater.

 

* * *

 

Lance didn’t know when it first happened. It was something that he convinced himself wasn’t real.

One of the symptoms of hypothermia (1), one of the ones they never tell you about, is the hallucinations. He’s been drowning for so long, hypothermic and cold beneath the waves. It didn’t matter if the tidal wave was metaphorical if he could physically feel the cold. And that meant it was real, in one way or another.

The burning on his skin was only a hallucination from the cold. The letters and words and impressions weren’t really there. It’s not like anyone else could see them.

 

* * *

 

Keith was beautiful. He really was. Lance had always thought so, even back at the Garrison. He’d recognize that mullet anywhere.

He remembered Keith back when, to each other, they were just Kogane and McClain. Number one and number eleven respectively.

Keith was so fiery, lively, and headstrong, but also so very cold. He didn’t let people close. Lance had tried, back in the beginning. It didn’t work out. Keith hadn’t even remembered him, and Lance hadn’t remembered exactly when ‘Kogane’ had become Keith.

But Lance did remember the nights he spent out on the roof, after the fallout of the Kerberos mission and his cousin was killed. He recalled the minutes he’d spent staring out at the stars and the nights looking out at the desert and wishing it were an ocean. Sometimes, in those quiet and lonely moments, he’d think of Keith, the dropout fighter pilot with an attitude problem, and wonder where he was.

Everyone had known that Keith and Lt. Shirogane were close, and no one had been surprised when Keith had stood up and walked out of the Garrison in the aftermath. For a while, after Shiro had left for Kerberos, but before he disappeared, Keith had been skating on thin ice, and it had only been a matter of time before he fell.

Lance wasn’t sure which moment had stood out the most in his memory: the vicious scowl, the slam of textbooks on the ground at the words “Pilot Error”, or the smack that reverberated through the silence of the cafeteria when Keith punched an officer that tried to calm him down (privately, Lance referred to this last moment as the ‘shot heard around the world’).

But Lance concluded, that all in all, he had never seen something so brave and so stupid. Rumor has it that Keith had stolen a hoverbike as he left, with the only words “It’s compensation.” (Turns out, it was true)

Back then, Lance would never be allowed to forget Keith. It felt like every waking moment he was reminded he was nothing more than Keith’s replacement. But when Lance thought of Keith as he stared at the stars, a bit of Lance wondered why he couldn’t hate him.

 

* * *

 

(s1)

Lance was ashamed to admit two truths regarding his interactions with Keith. One, he made up the rivalry in the hopes that this time Keith would pay attention to him. Two, he pretended to forget the bonding moment so Keith would know what’s it's like to be forgotten (at the time, Lance wasn’t aware it was something Keith already knew intimately. When Lance did it, he told himself it made it hurt less; but the look on Keith’s face made it hurt more.).

But, boy, did he remember that bonding moment. Even though he was concussed and bleeding, Lance didn’t think he could ever forget how much he wanted to kiss him. In retrospect, Lance wondered where they’d be if he hadn’t pushed Keith away in the aftermath. If he hadn’t let his pride get in the way.

 

* * *

  
(s2)  
Lance did know the exact moment he fell in love.

Lance had always been one to fall quickly, to drown quickly. He knew the exact moment when he realized how in love he was with Keith. Honestly, he didn’t even know why it was then that mattered so much or why it was significant to him.

They were sitting on some distant planet. It was after a battle or something. They had faced some sort of enemy (Maybe a robeast? He couldn’t be sure.). Lance didn’t remember the exact context or the Before. But he remembered the After. He remembered Keith.

It had just been Keith, standing there with Lance next to him.

Keith looked so alive. He had take his helmet off, and his hair was billowing in the wind. The planet’s twin suns were setting behind him, and off in the distance the stars were so clear Lance could count them. When Lance looked at Keith out of the corner of his eye, he could see the same galaxies reflected in Keith’s eyes.

Keith had been sweaty and bruised. There were gashes in his gloves and a cut across his cheekbone that was bleeding rather profusely.

Lance remembered Keith tilted his head up towards the setting suns and closed his eyes. There had been a little smile on his face.

Lance remembered that his eyes widened and the tips of his ears burned. His heart beat so loudly he could hear it. He had wondered idly if Keith could too. Keith was so beautiful. He really was.

It was always the little things for Lance.

 

* * *

 

(pre-finale s2)

Lance wanted to see the ocean, the real one. But for now, this was enough.

He stared out at the waves as they crashed against black sand beaches. The waves fell differently than on Earth, a bit triangularly. When they landed, Pidge had been quick to say it was because the planet had two moons, and it pulled the water in contrasting directions. Lance didn’t care much about the mechanics of it. He just cared that it was different.

Lance wanted to see the Atlantic. He missed his home, Varadero Beach, and the mouth-watering smell of the garlic knots from the vendor on the boardwalk. He was just a boy from Cuba caught up in a military mess, a game of chess that’s been played for far, far longer than he’s been alive. (2) He didn’t know what to do next.

But Lance digressed. He wanted to enjoy this moment in between battles; this pseudo vacation on a picturesque black sand shore with teal blue waters. These calm moments, when life was more than gunshots, death, and screaming, were few and far inbetween. He needed to cherish them.

The planet they landed on was uninhabited. Coran needed to work on repairs following the last battle they’d been in, and in preparation for what they’d hoped would be the final one. Shiro told the paladins to go relax down on the planet’s surface, while he and Allura strategized. Keith protested, but Shiro just smiled that small little smile he tended to do and pushed him out the Castle doors.

The planet was interesting; it was unnamed, uncharted territory. The left half, where they were stationed now, was warm and humid, with almost tropical waters. The right half was pure ice and snow, wildly cold. The two hemispheres, hot and cold, were split neatly down the equator. One could stand with one leg in the warm water, and the other in the frigid snow. (3)

Before they landed, when they were looking at the planet through the Castle’s windows, Hunk had said, “Kind of makes me think of Todoroki. Right, Lance?”

Lance grinned in response.

As soon as the doors opened, Lance whooped, and he and Hunk had sprinted out, trying to be the first on the shore.

Racing with Hunk brought back fond memories of when they were kids. He recalled melted ice cream cones, sticky hands, sand castles, and seashell necklaces. He and Hunk were children of the ocean, and they were at home.

At the Castle entrance, Pidge had adjusted her glasses, and with a rather disgusted expression said, “I don’t like sand!”

Keith, as moody as ever, sighed. He crossed his arms and walked rather slowly down to meet up with them.

“Come on, lame-o’s! Get in! The water’s fine!”

Lance and Hunk had both stripped down to their pants, and were treading the water. Unlike Earth’s oceans, it got deep extremely fast. They were barely a few feet from the shore before they couldn’t stand.

“Keith! What are you? Chicken?”

Keith looked over at them in resignation before saying, with a fair amount of hesitance, “I don’t know how to swim!”

Hunk looked incredulous, “What do you mean you don’t know how to swim? Isn’t that like, an essential life skill?”

Keith shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked the sand. He looked uncomfortable.

Lance interjected, “Hunk, you do remember this is the dude who lived in a desert, right? Besides! You’re talking to the best lifeguard-slash-swim instructor that’s ever been! I could teach you.”

“No thanks. I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.”

Lance huffed, “Even my preschoolers are better behaved than you.”

Keith didn’t grace that with a response. He just shrugged off his jacket, and sat down on the shore in true Keith manner.

“At least get your feet wet!”

Pidge, who finally came down from the Castle’s steps, sat gingerly on top of Keith’s jacket, muttering, “I really fucking hate sand.”

“Language, Pidgeon!”

Lance was having the time of his life. He really needed this. Even if it wasn’t the sea he knew, it was enough. Hunk and him laughed and splashed each other, swam together in circles, and attempted (with varying degrees of success) old synchronized swimming moves they’d seen years before.

Pidge and Keith seemed content just laying on the sand. Keith had moved close enough to the water so that his feet were brushed by the incoming waves. He laid on his back with one arm covering his eyes, as if he were asleep. Pidge, next to him, had her knees pulled close, and criticized their synchro technique. She was a cruel and unusual critic.

They spent a few hours on the beach, exploring the land and the waves. After two, Pidge went back up to the Castle.

She looked traumatized as she said, “I have sand in unspeakable places.”

Lance, Hunk, and Keith walked the shoreline. Keith was ahead of them, and they watched his strides. He had rolled up his leggings mid-calf and held his boots in one hand. He looked peaceful.

It would be a shame if someone were to ruin it. So he did! 

Hunk had turned to him, in the moments before he did it, and said, "Lance, if you do this, you might not survive. I will not be at your side." He then left to go float on his back in the water again. Lance made a face at him, but continued his plot regardless. He snuck up behind Keith, with two handfuls of sand, and just shoved them down his shirt. The sound he made was priceless. 

"Lance, what the fuck!" Keith seethed. 

Lance, laughing, ran out of reach, Keith scrambling after him. (Hunk still floated in the water, his arms behind his head. He looked up at the sky and sighed, "Young love.")

Keith chased him along the shore, and plucked up two handfuls of wet sand. He pelted Lance with them, hitting him square in the back.

"Shit, Keith! You've got an arm!"

This sand war, augmented by the occasional splashing, went on for quite a while. But eventually, Keith, surprisingly laughing a little bit, sat down on the sand and gazed out on the water.

Lance, out of breath and happy, plopped down next to him, "Do you admit defeat?"

"In your dreams."

"Truce, then?"

They shook hands. 

Lance couldn't help but grin as he looked at Keith, “Are you sure you don’t want to try going in?”

Keith, deadpanned, “I’d rather die.”

Lance hummed, “You know, my mama used to say that ‘death was an ocean’.”

“What do you think she meant?”

“I’m not sure.”

Lance and Keith were both covered in sand. It was everywhere: in their hair, down their pants, in between their toes. Lance felt at home.

"We should all go back up. I want to check out the ice side before we have to go."

 

* * *

 

“I wish we had some ice skates.”

The glacial side of the planet was as beautiful as it was cold. There were massive waves crystallized mid-crest, that glittered beneath the sun. They made him think of Pompeii’s victims, frozen in time. The ice reflected iridescent patterns that danced on their faces and the planet’s surface. _It’s like Woman Wept. (4)_

“You don’t know how to swim but you know how to ice skate?” Lance swore his eyebrows brushed his hairline.

Keith smiled and said, looking a little distant, “Mhm. Yeah, I used to, uhm, figure skate. My first foster family was rich, and they let me do whatever I wanted. I was with them for a long time. They were nice.”

“What happened?”

“They were gonna adopt me because the mom couldn’t get pregnant. But, then, uhm. One day she did. So they didn’t want me anymore.”

“That’s shitty,” Lance said helpfully. He was at a bit of a loss. Keith didn’t seem like the type to enjoy pity, and it’s not like Lance knew what to say anyway. So, Lance, grasping at straws, said, “Do you miss it? Figure skating?”

“I do. I was good at it. When I did the jumps, it felt like I was flying,” Keith said. His cheeks were a bit red. Lance wondered if it was from the cold or something else.

Suddenly, Keith looked a bit constipated. Lance didn’t know what had happened from that moment to the next, but Keith spat out bitterly, “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

Lance felt a bit offended. He’d thought by this point, Keith would consider him a friend. But he guessed it was partially his own fault for metaphorically pulling Keith’s ponytails.

Instead of saying something combative back, he decided on saying, “S’cool dude. I like talking to you.”

Keith looked like he was at a loss himself. He sputtered for a few moments. Lance smiled.

Keith turned a deeper red and eventually huffed, “Me too.”

Lance grinned, cupped his hand to his ear, and teased, “What’s that? Say it again, I didn’t hear you!”

Keith struggled for a few moments to keep a straight face, before bursting out in laughter. His gloved hands clutched his sides. It was cute. Keith was cute. Lance couldn’t keep himself from laughing either.

Lance tried to walk a little closer to tease him a bit further, when suddenly the ground was no longer underneath him.

“Woah!”

Keith had caught him, and miraculously, they both stayed upright. Staring into Lance’s eyes, he said, “Careful, Lance, it’s slippery.”

Lance thought he’d combust. Not now, gay thoughts. He played it off, as much as he could, “Pshaw, have you ever met anyone more graceful than me?”

Keith rolled his eyes at him before letting go. They both sat down on the ice, huddled underneath the crest of a frozen wave.

They didn’t speak much, surprisingly for Lance. They were content to just watch the light reflect of the waves, with the occasional comment passing by like the wind. Before they knew it, the sun had begun to set. The play of light across the waves was something Lance swore he’d never forget. When he looked at Keith, who’d had tugged on Lance’s jacket sleeves, it looked like Aurora Borealis had tattooed itself on his skin.

“We should probably head back. If we stay out here come nightfall, we’ll probably freeze to death,” Keith said, but made no move to rise.

“I’d almost be okay with that.”

Keith said, “Death is an ocean, after all.”

Lance looked at him. Sitting in the ice and snow, Lance felt the words burn in his skin.

Eventually, after a few more minutes of admiring the sunset, Keith stood up and started to head back. Lance tried to run after him, but ultimately slipped. He managed to hold himself up by gripping the back of Keith’s jacket.

He said, “Keith, let’s end this rivalry. Friends?” or more.

Keith raised one eyebrow, “You were the one who started it.”

“But now I’m the one whose ending it!”

Keith clasped his shoulder with an odd look in his eye, “Yeah. Friends. Let’s go back. I’m cold.”

 

* * *

 

Keith’s hair was really, really soft, and Lance had never been more confused.

“What do you mean you use two-in-one shampoo and conditioner? I’ve never been so disgusted in my entire life!”

“...Is it really a big deal? It’s easier than using five hundred things like you do!”

“First of all, it’s only four. Second, of course it’s a big deal! Two-in-one products strip all the essential oils away! They’re practically bleach!”

Lance covered his eyes with both hands and sighed dramatically before continuing, “As your friend, it is my duty to resolve this crisis.”

He tugged Keith down to the blue lion, “Get in, loser, we’re going shopping!”

“Is this allowed?”

“It’s an emergency!”

 

* * *

 

(s3)

“Lance, when you’re fighting, there’s a fire inside of you, in a way,” Keith looked uncomfortable, “Give me a second to try and explain.”

There were a million things Lance could’ve done in this moment, and there were a million things he didn’t do. He debated making a joke (it’s no surprise emo!keith would write poetry!), but he felt it would ruin the sanctity of this moment and he didn’t want to make Keith mad while he had an excuse to beat him up.

“No matter how hard you try, you’ll never be able to truly control it. But you can hold it back, use it, and make it so that it’ll only burn what you want it to. I know I’m one to talk, but I guess what I’m trying to say is that you can’t let the fire get the better of you. That’s when you burn, and when you become trigger-happy and impulsive. That’s what you’re doing right now. When you spar, you put no thought into your kicks and punches. You just do them. But if you think, plan, strategize, and essentially, guide the fire, you’re unbeatable.”

Keith paused, “You’re really good with that rifle, sharpshooter. Sparring hand to hand isn’t much different. It’s the same thought process. What shots would you take to down that enemy? Where are the weak spots? What punch would be most effective?”

Keith looked at him, head quirked to the side, sweat dripping down his forehead, cheeks flushed, and hair messy. Keith’s shirt clung to him like a second skin and his muscles rippled as he talked and gestured. Lance stared. Keith’s nose crinkled when he was thinking.

“Do you get what I’m saying?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I gotcha Samurai. Let’s go again.” Truth was, Lance had been a bit distracted, but he thinks he got the gist. Who knew Keith would be so eloquent?

As they sparred again, Lance tried to push those thoughts out of his head. It didn't matter. This friendship, this intimacy he shared with Keith wasn't worth sacrificing. He worried who he'd become if he ever got together with Keith. He was already worried enough about Keith because of his impulsive and self-sacrificing behavior; being in a relationship would be worse. It just wasn't practical, that's all. But that didn't stop him from wanting it.

Keith dodged all of Lance’s punches, and landed a few of his own. Lance panted in exertion, wiped the sweat from his upper lip, and tried to think logically as they circled each other. Keith smirked at him, looking like he’d already won. (Lance would barely admit that he’d lost every round thus far. Seriously, his leg was cramping!)

But all of the sudden, Lance got a flash of insight. _Guide the fire_. Keith tended to be a little weaker on his left side. A little unbalanced. Lance feinted to the right and used some dirty trick Keith liked against him on his left and--

They tumbled down. Lance hadn’t calculated for it to work quite so well. But he took advantage of it. He quickly jumped on Keith and put his forearm against his throat.

Lance panted and smirked, “You lose, Mullet.”

After a few seconds, the glow of victory wore off and Lance realized the rather compromising position they were in. He was practically straddling Keith! But he made no move to get off. He just stared at Keith’s eyes, purple and deep, and wondered how the hell this became his life.

To his surprise, Keith laughed. And it was beautiful. It shouldn’t have been; the air in the training room was humid, they were sweaty and sore and all around gross. But Lance would never think Keith was anything less than beautiful.

Lance had seen Keith laugh before, obviously. Memories of drunken nunvill rambles, the frozen ocean on Todoroki (Hunk begged Allura to allow him to claim the planet and name it. Not even Allura could resist Hunk’s puppy dog eyes), and two in one shampoo came to mind, but for some reason, this was different. Maybe it was because this was the first time he’d looked happy since Shiro went missing. Lance wasn’t sure, but he made it his mission to try and make Keith smile more often.

Lance could feel Keith’s adam’s apple bob beneath his forearm. He could feel the rippling of his abdomen under his thighs.

“Wanna go again? See if this was a fluke?”

Wordlessly, he climbed off Keith. He offered his hand, and Keith took it, squeezing tightly. They both got back into their stances, and they fought.

As Lance parried and blocked, he told himself that even if Keith never loved him back or got his words, this would be enough. Keith’s laughter, his smiles, it was enough. Lance smiled. _Guide the fire_.

Afterwards, when they laid sweaty and exhausted on the training room floor, Lance said, “When we fight next, I’ll beat you so badly you’ll forget your own name.” _Not if, when._

“In your dreams, pretty boy.”

It was the little things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This is a reference to "Diary of an Oxygen Thief" which is literally my least favorite book ever, but I loved this line! Here's a link to my [review](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1561703.Diary_Of_An_Oxygen_Thief)
> 
> 2\. A military mess, a game of chess, where France is queen and kingless! We signed a treaty with a King who's head is now in a basket, would you like to take it out and ask it? Should we honor our treaty King Louis' head? Uh do whatever you want I'm super dead.
> 
> 3\. Todoroki is my son and I love him.
> 
> 4\. woman wept, the planet that rose and the ninth doctor visited ah my heart
> 
> tbh i have no idea how i had time to write this or even the motivation ive been feeling hella underinspired... ive just started on ssris and i feel like SHIT 
> 
> this was supposed to be 4k words max but now its like 14k or smth love myself.  
> i have all the chapters finished, so i'll probably post one every two days i still have to edit them!
> 
> please comment if you liked this!


	2. miscommunication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Lance turned towards Keith with his fingers still twitching. Keith looked at him with a face of stone, but eyes that were silken and solemn. He made Lance want to trade his tomorrows for just one yesterday. He made Lance want to live in a memory without their emotions simmering in the blue and buried deep, a place where they could breathe easily._

**ii.**

**(the rest of the story takes place in season 3)**

Turns out “when” was only a few days later. 

As these sort of things tend to do, it had escalated quickly. Lance didn’t even remember how it had started, who had spoken first, or who had thrown the first blow. It was probably Lance though. These types of things were usually his fault.

Of course, Lance and Keith were far from perfect. But honestly, Lance thought they were past things like this.

But anyway. Lance and Keith had been training together, again. Lance wanted to get better at hand-to-hand, in the case he lost his bayard. He didn’t know what was in it for Keith. But it brought them to this moment.

“Well, what do you do for the team, Lance? Make jokes no one finds funny? Ruin so many diplomacy meetings that we have to stop bringing you?” Keith’s face looked murderous. Keith was invading Lance’s personal space. He was so close that Lance could count his individual eyelashes.

Keith screamed, spittle flying into Lance’s face,   “Even Allura and Coran do more than you! Face it cargo pilot, you’re the seventh wheel.”

Several things occurred in that moment. Lance stared. Keith backed up, and smiled. 

Keith’s smile was not kind. It was vicious, daring, biting, and as sharp and cutting as the blades he weld in battle. Lance didn’t know or want to know what expression his own face held. The world felt watery and distorted; his vision was blurred and the sounds of the castle sounded strangely muffled. But all Lance could focus on, as his turned by his gaze towards his shoes and his eyes burned, was the delicate scratching of words above his right hip. That meant Keith had to really believe it, right?

_ You’re the seventh wheel. The seventh wheel. Seventh wheel. _

Lance steeled himself. His fingernails bit into his hands and formed crescent moons in his palms. Their shape was not dissimilar to the distant moons peering at them through the window. 

Lance said, with no inflection and pure apathy, “At least I have people who care about me, drop-out. At least I have a family.”

Lance was a wild animal locked in a cage, and he did the only thing he could. Lash out. It was fight or flight, and he was tired of running. 

He knew he went too far, even before he said it. (It wasn’t even like the statement was true. The team was his family, and boy did Lance care) But Lance was drowning, he was drowning and he only had a few seconds left to get to the surface. Lance was a swimmer. He knew he had to claw his way up from the abyss. For a moment, he had thought Keith was a hand that reached out to lift him up, but Keith pulled away at the last moment. Lance felt betrayed. Keith picked apart his deepest insecurities in one turn of phrase. He wanted Keith to drown too. 

But he knew he was grasping at straws to justify his actions. They were inexcusable and he knew it. No matter how much he was hurting, he loved Keith and, even if the small, hidden part of him thought Keith deserved it, Lance didn’t want to hurt him. 

_ but you did _

_ you did. _

_ seventh wheel. _

_ cargo pilot. _

Lance felt himself fall deeper into the sea.  _ Death is an ocean. It surrounds us on all sides.  _ When he looked around he swore he saw Keith next to him.

In the end, Keith cried. Lance’s shoulders shook as he tried not to.

 

* * *

 

“Jesus motherfucking Christ! Lance, what the fuck!”

“Come on now, Pidge podge. Language, remember your commandments.” (2)

“I love our lord and savior, Jesus Christ, mom! Lance, what the gosh darn flibberty gibbets!” 

“Better!” 

“Lance, I need backup!”

“Have no fear, Pidgey! Lance is here!”

“Wait- stop! What are you doing!?”

“It should work out-”

The hologram flickered before loudly announcing,  _ GAME OVER,  _ in blocky red lettering.

Lance saw that Pidge was seething. She threw her controller down violently before turning and pummeling him (though, gently and with care). 

“Fuck you! This! Was! All! Your! Fault!” Each word was punctuated with a little fist. Lance was laughing through it all. 

“ _ Lo siento! Lo siento!”  _ Lance laughed.

When she’d finally exhausted herself, Lance said, “You done?”

She crossed her arms and huffed, “If you just followed the plan we had set out from the beginning, then this wouldn't have happened! We could’ve won!”

“But what about the  _ pizazz!  _ The  _ razzle dazzle! _ ” Lance threw some jazz hands.

Pidge rolled her eyes and flopped down on the floor, spread eagle.

After a few minutes, Lance said, still smiling, “Do you want to go again? I promise to follow the proper procedure, Captain.”

Pidge placed her arm over her eyes and said, dramatically, “I need a minute to recover. My heart is beating too fast.”

Lance grinned down at Pidge. She reminded him so much of his youngest sister. He thought they’d be friends when they met. (If he said ‘when’ instead of ‘if’ he could at least pretend there was a chance of it happening) They were both spirited, intelligent (far more than he was, at least. His sister was into math and theoretical physics, things Lance only understood enough of to pass for his classes at the Garrison. Some people actually enjoyed math, he couldn’t wrap his head around it.) and snarky. It was a bittersweet comparison. 

When Pidge spoke, he thought for a moment he could hear his sister’s voice again. 

Pidge tapped on his shoulder, “Lance. Lance! Are you alright?”

His eyes refocused. “What? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” he said cheerily.

“Whatcha thinking about? I bet I can make a guess,” Pidge waggled her eyebrows.

Lance’s own eyebrows rose to his hairline, “What are you suggesting?”

“I bet you were thinking about a certain mullet-haired alien boy. I know you guys have been distant, and I won’t ask! But….”

“Come on now, Pidge. That was so cringey,” he said calm and collected. Internally, he was screaming.

“You aren't denying it! You loooove him, lover boy!”

It was funny though, Lance thought. Because this was the first time he actually wasn’t thinking about Keith since their fight.

Lance smiled. He decided to play along. He and Pidge haven’t quite gotten to the point where they exchanged words, but he knew he could trust her. Despite that, he was not quite ready to share the true reason for his spacing out. 

He said, “Yeah, uhm. I do.”

Pidge’s smirk dropped and her eyes widened, “Woah. Seriously? I mean, I’m not surprised. But, really?”

“Yeah. I have his words.”

“Why aren’t you together, then? All my dreams are coming true.” 

“It’s a bit more complicated than that. He doesn’t have mine.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Lance said tightly.

“Have you talked to him?”

“No,” Lance scoffed, “Why would I?”

Pidge rolled her eyes, “Well. You’ll never know for sure until you ask.”

Lance sulked. 

“For what it’s worth, I think he’s in love with you too. He looks at you all longingly. Especially now. It’s ridiculous,” Pidge crinkled her nose. “You should just kiss him.”

“Blocked! Not helping!”

Pidge rolled her eyes, “Anyways, let’s get back to the game. Let’s beat that level finally, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Lance picked up his controller absently. He was distracted; he could hear Pidge yelling and the sound effects of the game, but it was all muffled. All he could focus on was what Pidge had said.

_ I think he’s in love with you too. _

 

* * *

 

Lance guessed they should talk. He’d avoided Keith successfully for four days after their fight, barring team meetings. He knew the others were aching to ask what happened, but they kept their distance, barring Pidge. On the other hand, he could see Allura getting increasingly irritated with him as time went on. 

But part of him was content with just letting things fade away. He didn’t want to face Keith after what he’d done. But he also knew that the only way to stop the guilt that was festering inside of him from consuming him whole was to work things out. He still put it off for as long as possible.

It came to a head later on in the night of the fourth day. Keith found him while Lance was returning to his room after hiding away with Kaltenecker for the evening. It wasn’t like she could speak, of course, but Kaltenecker felt like a connection to home and she made some of the darkness he felt fade away. (1)

Keith kept fidgeting with his hands and didn’t seem to know what to say. This was like one of the few times Lance has ever seen Keith as anything but self-assured. It made Lance nervous.

Lance took pity on him. He put his hand on Keith’s shoulder and said, “We should talk, bud.”

Keith nodded and said, “Uhm. We can go to my room. For privacy.”

Lance had never been in Keith’s room before. The walls were bare, and the room was so tidy it was mind boggling. Lance wouldn’t have thought that the room had been lived in, had it not been for the collection of souvenirs from all the planets they’d visited lining the desk. Who would’ve thought Keith would be so sentimental? It was endearing.

Lance and Keith sat down next to each other on the edge of Keith’s bed. The silence that bore down them was almost living and breathing, as if each second was an exhale, each moment was an inhale.

They sat there, their lungs breathing deep. Their thighs were close enough together that they felt the warmth radiating from each others’ bones, but they weren’t quite touching.

Lance’s fingers twitched against his leg. His lungs expanded and contracted, pushed and pulled, inhaled and exhaled calmly and uniformly, but inside his heart was racing. He could almost hear it. He wondered if Keith could. (2)

They both gazed out the window to look at the galaxies that lied beyond the glass. The planets and distant stars, all of whom looked so far away and unreal, made Lance feel unspeakably small. But on the other hand, in Keith’s room and around the castle, all of the lights were out. The rest of the team had succumbed to sleep, so the two of them were all that was left. With this darkness and silence, Lance could pretend he and Keith were the only two in the world.

Lance turned towards Keith with his fingers still twitching. Keith looked at him with a face of stone,  but eyes that were silken and solemn. He made Lance want to trade his tomorrows for just one yesterday. He made Lance want to live in a memory without their emotions simmering in the blue and buried deep, a place where they could breathe easily.

Keith looked at Lance, and Lance could tell that Keith knew he wanted to speak. But the words were caught in Lance’s throat, just like they were stuck in Keith’s, because they knew to speak meant to kill a living entity. 

Lance inhaled and exhaled, and the millions of words he wanted to say in that moment were lost in the quiet.

They sat there for countless minutes, in that strained and living silence (3). Keith stood up and pulled at his hair, exasperated. 

“This is so uncomfortable! Why aren’t you saying anything? You always talk!”

Okay. Lance was a little bit offended. He pinched the bridge of his nose before saying, “You’re the one who initiated this!”

“No, you were one that said we should talk!”

“Yeah, but you came and found me!” Lance almost smiled. At least this was familiar.

Keith looked a powder keg about to explode. He took a breath before saying, tightly, “Look. I don’t want to fight. We’ve done enough of that. I just don’t really know what to say, alright?”

Lance stood up and put a hand on Keith’s shoulder, “I don’t really know what to say either.”

“That’s a first,” Keith snorted. 

Lance pulled a face and said, “Had it not been for the the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you.”

Keith laughed. Lance wasn’t surprised that, out of all the memes he’s ever referenced, Keith would get that one. It did have a knife in it, after all.

They sobered and spent a few minutes in quiet.

“I didn’t expect our rivalry to get so out of hand,” Lance said suddenly, causing Keith to look up.

Keith flinched at the word  _ rivalry. _ Lance wondered why.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Keith said shakily.

“No, you did. I could say I didn’t  _ mean _ to hurt you either. But that would be a lie. We may not have  _ meant _ those words literally, but we said them because we knew they would hurt,” Lance paused, “Anyway, we both could’ve meant those words with the best intentions, but the impact outweighs the intent…”

“ _ Lo lamento _ , Keith,” Lance’s eyes welled up with tears and his usually absent accent got thicker, “I’m sorry. I care about you a lot.”  _ Understatement. _

Lance continued, “But what you said, that was one of the most inconsiderate things someone has ever said to me. It really hurt. That doesn’t make what I said okay, though. I know that. What I said was even worse.”

“It’s okay, we’re even. I’m sorry too.”

“It’s not okay!” Lance said, but Keith ignored him, instead choosing to move to face the mirror on the far wall of his bedroom. Lance moved behind him, and stared at them both in the reflection. 

Keith looked a little lost. A little uncomfortable. But he said, “I’ve always been good at pushing people away-”

Lance was about to interrupt, but Keith reached to punch him in the shoulder, “Shut up! I need to say this now, or, or- I’ll never be able to say it at all!”

Keith eyed his reflection and sighed before repeating, “I’ve always been good at pushing people away.”

“I’ve… I’ve always been naturally untrusting… because my mom left me and then my dad died. So instead of accepting people into my life, I pushed them away… before they could reject me too… I guess I have some walls up. (4)

“I’ve always felt so alone. I could count on one hand the number of people that’ve left words on me, much less the number that have reciprocated but…

“I just did the same to you. Tried to push you away, I mean. Which was wrong and unfair. I know that. But I felt vulnerable. 

“Lance, you’re very important, especially to the team. We wouldn’t last long without you.”

Keith went quiet for a moment before yelling, “I said I wouldn’t cry!”

He buried his head in his hands and starting rubbing angrily at his eyes.

Lance’s heart clenched. He didn’t know if it would be welcome, but he put his arms around Keith. Keith, to Lance’s surprise, wrapped his arms around Lance and dug his face into his neck. 

“Keith, I know what I said. But I was lying. I was being an asshole. Fuck. What I mean to say is that I do care about you. A lot. And I’ll-”  _ Mierda.  _ “We’ll be your family now. The team. We love you more than you could know, and I’m sorry I was so insensitive…” he trailed off, before steeling his nerves and saying, “And, uhm, I’m sure that more people have your words than you’d expect...”

Lance cared a lot about those who he considered his family. He would do anything for them. Back on Earth, there was nothing more important than ensuring the health and happiness of his siblings. Here in space, they might not share the same blood or been together long, but he loved his  _ familia del espacio ultraterrestre  _ all the same. They had gone through so much together that their bond ran deep, a woven web of thread that could never be cut, despite the fights and bloodshed. 

As for the second half of his statement, part of him was hoping Keith would catch on and ask him. The other part was hoping Keith would remain oblivious. But it was burning inside him.  _ Just say it. Just say it. _

“My words are yours,” he whispered, so quiet he could barely hear himself. Keith didn’t hear it, Lance thought. Keith didn’t react or flinch or anything like he would have had Lance’s words scratched themselves into his skin. Lance was more relieved than he thought he’d be. He couldn’t deal with rejection right now.

Keith pulled away after a few moments and looked back towards the mirror. Lance loved Keith and Lance loved that stupid mullet no matter how many times he has threatened to cut it off (it was strangely endearing, despite being a relic better left in the past). He just wanted Keith to love him too. But he didn’t know if Keith could any more.

Lance looked at Keith. Really looked at him, beyond the surface attraction and into the flames beneath Keith’s skin. Keith was far from perfect, but so was Lance. (Lance would be the first to admit that.) Keith had an angry, rash, and uncaringly, though unintentionally hurtful disposition. He made Lance want to rip out his hair and claw his eyes out. Lance still felt raw from their fight, days later.

But Keith was beautiful too. Sensitive, even if he barely showed it. Affectionate even though he tried to hide it. Lance wanted to bring that side out of him so badly. He wanted Keith to hold him and fight by his side. He wanted to be Keith’s stability, his right hand man. 

He told himself to buck up for Keith’s sake. Step up to the plate. Keith was dealing with enough on his shoulders; he was Atlas underneath the weight of the sky. If there was anything he could do to lessen that burden, he would do it. That’s why he accepted Keith’s authority as leader and sat willingly in the pilot’s seat of Keith’s lion. (Though he would never admit it to himself, that second point was not entirely true. He knew he would never see the Red lion as his own, and some lingering part of him that he wanted to push away reminded him he was second best. The leftover cargo pilot. Keith’s replacement.)

So he stopped flirting incessantly. He still joked around (he wants to keep the morale high, and distract the others and himself from the grim reality: none of them would make it out of this alive. That’s partly why that insult hurt so intensely. The other reason was that Keith was the one who said it.), that part of him will never go away, but he wanted to be more serious. 

He would be there for Keith. His shoulder would always be available for Keith to cry on (though Lance feared he never would beyond this moment). Him and Keith were the children of war, and for right now, they only really had each other and the team. Opposite as they were (clashing red and blue), they were two sides of the same coin. They were the bruised fruits at the back of the basket, the unwanted children holding their hearts in their silence. 

But in retrospect, Lance wished he had something more to hold, because as his heart had withered to ash, it smoldered in his hands and burned. This was love. Wasn’t it? 

“We’re okay, right?” Keith looked anxious.

“Yeah, Mullet, we’re okay. We had a bonding moment! I cradled you in my arms!” Lance said, before adding in, almost as an afterthought, “I’m still a bit upset with you though.” The words, ‘You’re the seventh wheel’ may never leave his skin, but Lance could move on. He could forgive. It was Keith after all. Lance wondered absently if Keith knew the power he weld. And anyway, it wasn’t like Keith was the only one at fault.

Keith laughed, before nodded vigorously, “Yeah, yeah of course. I mean, same here.”

“Okay,” Lance mumbled, “Well, me and Pidge are going to play that video game we got from the space mall. Hunk managed to build something to get it to work, if you didn’t already know. We’ve almost beaten it...” He trailed off.

Keith hummed noncommittally and inclined his head. He looked as awkward as Lance felt.

“So, I guess I’m gonna go. Nice talk. Thank you. Catch ya on the flip side, Mullet.”

He angled to leave, wanting to escape the perpetual feeling of having water in his lungs.

Keith said quietly, a little dejectedly, “Oh. Okay. See you later, I guess.”

Lance paused, and debated a little before saying, “Uhm. You can join us. If you want.”

Keith smiled, “Not sure if I’d know how to play…”

Lance felt a little better then. Keith’s smile could power cities for weeks on end. Lance grinned and then put one arm around Keith’s shoulder, gesturing wildly with his other, “Oh, but we can teach you! You’d learn from the certifiable best game masters in space.”

“You’re probably the only game masters in space.”

“Au contraire, mon ami. There’s actually rankings on this game. Can you believe it? It’s a space league!”

  
They moved out of the harsh gaze of the mirror and together they left without looking back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Kaltenecker x Lance is the best ship  
> 2\. Can you hear my heartbeat? Tired of never feeling enough...  
> 3\. I stole this line from The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller i love it so much   
> 4\. Directly from Keith's vlog
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you like this chapter! Thank you for the comments and kudos!


	3. Chapter 3

So they made up and everything was relatively back to normal. 

Pidge had a fun time teaching Keith how their games worked. When Keith had ended up beating him in their version of Mortal Kombat, Lance was convinced he was hustled. 

The days passed, and while Keith was still moody, still angry, it was normal. 

But this wasn’t normal. 

Lance couldn’t sleep. Sometimes this happened, these bouts of insomnia. After a few hours of tossing and turning, he resigned himself to the fact he probably wouldn’t sleep that night. He wrapped his house coat around himself and slipped his feet into the warm lion slippers at his bedside. When this happened, he liked to go into the observatory room and look at the stars. 

When he entered the room, to his surprise, he noticed a bundled, shaking mass at the steps near the window. He heard the occasional sniffle. 

As he got closer, he could tell the quivering figure was Keith. He’d recognize that mullet anywhere. 

Keith cried like he wasn’t meant to be heard. It was mostly silent and painful, like he wasn’t allowed to make a sound. But for all Lance knew, maybe he hadn’t been.

Lance stepped behind him, purposefully making sure his steps were audible. 

Keith whipped around and said, his voice shaky and broken, “Go away, Lance!”

Lance shook his head and sat down next to him. Keith wrapped his arms around his knees and continued to cry. After a few moments, he wiped at his eyes bitterly, and said, “What do you want?”

Lance responded, patiently, “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Keith hissed.

Lance laughed, “Mullet. You’re obviously not. Cut the crap. What happened?”

Keith slumped. He said, his voice small, “I had a dream, and w-we found Shiro. But he was dead before we got to him.”

Lance’s heart ached. He reached out to wrap his arm around Keith. To his surprise, Keith didn’t push him away.

“Listen, I know that Shiro is still alive. I just feel it. We’re gonna find him.”

Keith looked at him, “I know. It just hurts.”

They both went silent for a few minutes.

Keith broke it by saying, “Why are you awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.”

Lance stood up with his hand out for Keith, “Well, let’s at least try and get some rest.”

They walked back to their rooms. Lance stopped by Keith’s door and said, “Goodnight, Keith.”

As he turned towards his own room, Keith grabbed his sleeve. 

“Could you, uhm, stay?”

Lance’s face softened. “Yeah, I can stay.”

He settled down on the bed next to Keith. They closed their eyes, and they slept.

Keith was gone come morning. 

-

They found Shiro. 

Lance was happy, he truly was! But after the excitement passed, he couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy. Lance has always been a bit insecure. Okay, a lot insecure. He guessed it came with the territory of being a middle child (8).

And now, he can’t hear Blue in his head like he used to. It was making him wonder if he was even meant to be part of this team anymore. 

-

As much as Lance needed to be Keith’s stability, he needed Keith to be his too. 

“With Shiro back, that makes six paladins, but there are only five lions. And if I’m right, that’s one paladin too many.”

Lance paused, “So maybe, the best thing I can do for the team is step aside.”

Keith was standing right in front of him and his lips were moving but Lance didn’t know what he was saying. 

“What are you talking about?” Keith asked.

Lance didn’t even know. He was feeling insecure and useless and pointless and he was drowning, drowning, drowning. Allura was a better paladin than him. Shiro was back. There were no need for jokes or obfuscation. The answer was right there. 

“Lance?”

Lance shook himself. He said, “Sorry, Mullet. Too busy thinking.”

“I didn’t know you could think.” Ouch. He could feel a burn in his bones.

“You wound me,” he said. He didn’t have the energy for real jokes. 

Keith winced, “Okay bad timing. But Lance. Seriously. I’m not very good at this. Don’t worry about it, okay? You’re important. Things will work themselves out.”

Lance swore Keith was going to say something else, but he was distracted by the feeling of those words burning into the skin on his hip. You’re important. Little tears well up in his eyes. (He lies to himself and tells himself that he’s okay, and getting new marks hurt. That’s all. It has nothing to do with that fact that Lance desperately hopes Keith means something more underneath those words. Even though, at the same time, his rational side tries to convince himself that it would be better if Keith didn’t mean anything. There was a reason that workplace relationships, especially those where danger thrived, didn’t work)

Keith looked earnest. Softer than Lance had ever seen him. Lance had the strange and sudden urge to run his fingertips through Keith’s bangs and push them out of the way so he could see his eyes. Instead, Lance smiled. He formed his face into some bad impression of his usual cockiness and nodded.

“Thanks, Keith.” I love you.

He turned to leave, and just as he reached the door, he heard Keith call out, “And Lance? Leave the math to Pidge.”

Lance didn’t feel much better. He went to Keith for help, for some sort of reassurance and validation he couldn’t find within himself. He guessed he got what he came for but it didn’t help much. Lance wanted to scream at him almost as much as he wanted to kiss him.

After leaving, Lance leaned against the door of Keith’s room for a moment. He slid down to his knees for a minute. You’re important. You’re important. You’re important. Took a deep breath, stood up, and then walked on. 

There was a small smile on his face. Keith meant well, even if he didn’t know how exactly to express it. Leave the math to Pidge. What does that even mean?

His insecurities were not cured. He felt them swirling and bubbling up inside, but for a moment, he felt like he could almost push them away.

-

Lance needed some time away from Keith. Keith was the only thing that occupied his thoughts nowadays.

“What’s cookin’, Hunk? No wait, ‘What’s shakin’, bacon?’ because you’re trying to make a bacon substitute, am I right?” This was the fourteenth pun in under an hour.

“Lance, I can feel those words forming on my skin right now. If I wasn’t cooking, I would cry,” Hunk sniffled, “Why are you like this?”

“Like what? Beautiful, stunning, awesome?”

“More like narcissistic,” Pidge interjected. She was seated at a little island in the center of the kitchen, laptop open in front of her. The clacking of the keys sounded amplified in the metal room.

Meanwhile, Hunk sighed a bit and muttered, “It was rhetorical. But I did this to myself.”

“Please Lance, don’t make Hunk suffer your insufferability (haha!) any longer. He is too pure for this world. Sunshine. Cinnamon roll. He doesn’t deserve this,” Pidge adjusted her glasses and continued to type. 

Hunk blushed. Lance looked affronted, “I’ll have you know that everyone appreciates my humor, amiga.”

Pidge scoffed, “Keep telling yourself that. By the way, Hunk, do we have any of the space coffee leftover? I think I might be close to a breakthrough and I need a caffeine fix.”

Before Hunk could respond, Lance jumped up and yelled, “Why Pidge, do you have a latte on your mind?”

Pidge groaned. 

“Is having 12 (and this would be your 12th I counted) cups of coffee part of your daily grind?”

“Lance save us all and stop.”

“I’m just espresso-ing my love for you.”

“Goddamn it, Lance.”

“Those are no words a smol bean like you should say!”

“What kind of person still says ‘smol bean’?”

“My kind of person,” Lance beamed.

“I rest my case,” Pidge said with a tone of finality.

Hunk looked on in amusement, “You guys are mocha-ing me crazy.”

Pidge’s eyes burned beneath her glasses. She was murderous.

“Traitor,” she hissed.

“Now that’s my brew-tiful best friend!” Lance high fived Hunk. 

“I can’t believe you made me listen to twenty goddamn puns in the space of an hour. That’s twenty too many. Get out.”

“Hermana, make that twenty-one because you just made one yourself! In the space of an hour! And we’re in space!”

Pidge tried to swat at him, and ended up chasing him around the kitchen island. Lance likened her to an angry kitten.

“Okay, okay guys, seriously. I had an idea,” Lance still trying to escape Pidge’s wrath, sounded excited.

Pidge inclined her head, “Go on.”

“Spa day! As a team bonding exercise! I think it would be fun. We could finally get you away from that laptop for longer than five minutes at a time. We all need a break.” 

“You will have to pry this laptop from my cold, dead body.”

They had a spa day.

-

It was kind of beautiful. They rarely had time to do things like this, all together. Between team meetings and tactics, battles, unexpected alarms, and training, there hadn’t been much time to just hang out with each other. Lance actually couldn’t recall the last time they had a movie night together (they tended to watch cheesy Altean rom-coms, Allura’s favorites); it was far before Shiro had returned back to them.

Lance had his head in Hunk’s lap. Pidge and Hunk were laughing together, joking about some sort of new tech and its theoretical uses. Lance tried to follow along, but after the third mention of some sort of transdimensional electromagnetic neutralizing algorithm, he gave up, content to just watch them smile. 

On the other side of the room, Allura and Coran reclined on couches, happily conversing to each other in Altean. Sometimes, when they needed a little taste of the home they lost, they turned off the translators and spoke in their native tongue. Lance wished he could do the same, but no one else spoke Spanish. He digressed, there was no use going down that road right now. He was happy.

A little earlier, Lance had set up Allura and Coran with his detoxifying face mask. Donned in their robes and slippers, and their eyes covered in the space equivalent of cucumbers, they looked like real divas. Coran had been particularly enthusiastic when Lance had offered to paint his nails. Lance didn’t think he’d ever seen either of them so relaxed.

Keith and Shiro were sitting nearby. Keith had his hair pulled back in a little ponytail with Hunk’s headband holding his bangs back. (9) (When Keith first pulled back his hair and held out the tin of face mask, silently asking for Lance’s help, Lance thought his heart was going to burst. Keith was so goddamn cute.) Shiro’s face held an intense look of concentration. His tongue peeked out from his lips as he painted Keith’s nails. Keith kept trying to talk to him, but Shiro was too focused. It was kind of adorable.

Lance closed his eyes. Occasionally, Hunk would braid little bits of his hair. It was nice, reminded him of home and the days he and Hunk would do this back at the Garrison. Hunk was the best friend he’d ever had. 

Eventually, the sounds around him lulled. He felt so safe and warm, he was so happy--

Keith jabbed his side and Lance leaped out of Hunk’s lap. 

“Dios, Keith! Don’t do that! I was practically asleep!”

Keith rolled his eyes, before saying, “‘Lura wants you to braid her hair.”

“Ah okay.” 

He loved braiding Allura’s hair. It was so soft and silky underneath his fingertips. Back home in Cuba, his sisters would form a braid train, with him at the caboose. He always braided his oldest sister’s hair. His sisters had taught him all different sorts of designs and styles, and occasionally he experimented with his own. A while ago, Allura and him made a pact to try out different ones whenever they had a chance. 

He got up and stretched his arms, his shirt rising to reveal a little of his midriff. Keith stared at him.

Lance smirked, “See something you like, Mullet?”

Keith spluttered and blushed, muttering out a “no” and looking away. Lance could’ve sworn he saw him smile, but tried not to hope.

Over Keith’s shoulder he could see Pidge and Hunk exchange a Look™. He rolled his eyes. 

Lance settled down on the couch behind Allura. She smiled and said, “Thank you, Lance. This has been such a good idea!”

Ever since Lance had stopped flirting with her, and made it clear that his feelings towards her were nothing more than brotherly, she had been much warmer to him. It was nice. 

Lance twisted and pulled at her hair. He looked around the room again. Keith and Shiro had switched places; Shiro laid down, with his prosthetic arm over his eyes, as Keith painted his human hand’s fingernails a rather startling shade of hot pink. Lance absently wondered who chose it.

Pidge and Hunk were still conversing quietly among themselves about this or that. Lance couldn’t hear what. 

The space mice chittered and squeaked as they ran around the room. Periodically, they’d stop to perform a show for the team. Lance and Allura tended to clap the loudest. 

Coran had fallen asleep soon after Lance started braiding Allura’s hair. When he slept, Coran inhaled through his nose, and let out his breath with a little puff through the mouth.

This was happiness. This was safety. He didn’t know how long it would last, but for now he would cherish it.

Allura’s hair looked beautiful once Lance was done. Her hair was so pretty; it was shiny and iridescent, glowing with shades of blue and pink, much like her eyes. She thanked Lance profusely and swung her thick braid around her shoulder. 

When Lance turned his attention back to the room, he saw Keith staring at him. Keith’s purple eyes widened and a little blush dusted his cheeks at being caught staring. After a seconds, Lance diverted his attention. His own cheeks felt a bit warm. 

When he chanced another look, Keith was laughing at something Shiro said. Dios mio, this boy is going to be the death of me. Keith was beautiful. He really was.

It was always the little things for Lance.


	4. Chapter 4

Lance supposed he expected this to happen at one point, but he didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

He and Keith had headed back to Lance’s room after another battle with Lotor. They liked to spend time with each other, after the fights. Sometimes sleep alluded the both of them, their minds too focussed on perpetual images of death and destruction. It was so hard to cope. Since Keith’s bad dream, before they found Shiro, they shared a bed when the going got rough. Staying together, at least in Lance’s case, kept the nightmares at bay. When Lance had night terrors back home, he used to sleep next to his older brother. 

He didn’t know whether Keith slept or not. Whenever Lance woke up, the right side of the bed was cold and empty. They never really talked about this habit of theirs in the light of day.

Lance was exhausted and boneless, and both of them were sweaty and crusted with dirt. Neither felt like they had the energy to shower, though they desperately needed to. 

Lance watched Keith’s back out of the corner of his eye as Keith tugged off his paladin armor. He had a nice body, and the black airsuit left nothing to the imagination. Lance finished pulling off his own armor before sitting down on the bed.

Lance looked at Keith as Keith turned back around. Keith’s hair was greasy, tangled, and in his eyes. Complete helmet hair, messy and disgusting. Lance laughed a little to himself.

“What? Stop laughing at me,” Keith looked a bit intense.

“Keith, it’s just your hair. No bueno for the ladies.”

Keith reached up to touch the little strands that brushed his shoulders, “Stop making fun of my mullet!”

Lance could’ve sworn he heard a muttered, “Why would I care about the ladies?” but chose to ignore it.

“Oh so you acknowledge it? It is a mullet!”

Keith rolled his eyes and turned to go to the bathroom. Lance grabbed his arm before he could go and said, a little seriously, a little impulsively, “Can I brush it?”

“What?”

“Your hair, can I brush it?”

Keith looked conflicted. As the tension and heat in the room increased, Lance wondered if he’d done something inexplicably wrong.

Keith exhaled and looked tense before saying, “Yeah, of course.”

Keith sat down on the bed next to him, and Lance grabbed the brush he saw on Keith’s desk. He used to comb out his little sisters’ hair back home. While this moment was inherently different, it made his heart feel warm. 

Keith’s hair was sweaty and a bit gross, but pulling through the knots and tangles calmed him. After a few minutes, Keith began to relax too. Lance was afraid he’d fall asleep on him, literally and metaphorically. Just before Lance was about to stop, Keith abruptly turned around and his eyes smoldered with an unknown emotion. Everything happened so fast.

“What- Keith-!” Keith kissed him. Oh, I guess that’s why he said he wouldn’t care about the ladies.

It was exactly how he’d expect Keith to kiss; violent and messy and rough around the edges, quick and fiery and fast as if this would be his only chance. It felt like Keith had no idea what he was doing, like he had never done it before. It was nice though, in a way. It was nice because it was Keith.

All of the sudden, from the moment Lance kissed back, the room felt energized and electrified. All traces of earlier exhaustion were erased from the both of them.

Keith pulled him tighter, and their teeth and tongues clacked together. Lance felt heat roar down his spine as Keith bit on his lower lip. Lance took control of the kiss and slowed it down, since he had more experience. For once, he couldn’t say anything. All of the words were bottled up in his throat.

This is it, he thought, Keith is fire, and I’m going to burn. 

Lance let himself be backed into the wall. He wanted this. He was like a moth to flame, lost chasing the smoke. When Keith pulled away to mouth kisses against his neck, Lance felt like the bed sheets were blazing beneath his toes. 

“Lance, are you okay with this?”

“Sí,” Lance breathed, lacing his fingers in Keith’s hair, “Yes. I want you.”

“I want you, too.”

Lance felt the familiar scorch of handwriting. There were new words he couldn’t speak engraved into his skin. He felt the impressions of them when Keith traced the divots of his bones and the dips in his ribcage. Are you okay with this? I want you.

When Keith moved so he was on top of him, Lance wrapped his legs around Keith’s body and then let himself be pushed down on the bed. Keith resumed kissing his neck. He seemed to like doing that.

“Te amo, Mullet,” he whispered, “I love you.”

If Keith felt any words or heard him at all, he didn’t let it show. 

But Lance told himself that even if Keith couldn’t say it back or even if the words never scratched themselves into Keith’s skin, Keith was his and he was Keith’s.

Wasn’t he?

-

Lance couldn’t fall asleep. There were too many thoughts racing around in his head and the narrow twin bed was too hot and cramped. 

Keith slept on. For the first time, he was there in the morning. Lance looked at him. His face was so soft and smooth with sleep. When Keith was awake, he was an inferno. Uncontrollable, intense, beautiful. He was a flame that danced to a tune no one but himself knew. 

But when he slept, he was more like a campfire. Tender. A hearth and home. Lance reached to push a lock of black hair off his face, but pulled back at the last moment. 

He cradled his hands close to his chest, and he traced the profile of Keith’s face with his eyes instead of his fingertips. Everything about him was lovely: the sloping nose, almond eyes, sharp cheekbones, and little cupid’s bow of his lips. Keith was beautiful and Lance wanted to taste those lips again. 

Instead, he carefully got up out of the bed and went to bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, and his fingers unconsciously traced the little marks on his neck from the night before. Bruising on the fruit. 

He turned on the faucet and absentmindedly let the water pour over his hands. He was never burning. All this time he’s been drowning.

Lance told himself, when the room started shaking and his palms got sweaty, the world tilts on its axis and that’s why everything spins.

-

Lance was still sitting on the floor of the bathroom when the alarm went off. 

He had been there for a while after his bout of panic. Lance had felt calmer the longer he had sat there but internally he had continued to worry: was it good for him? am i enough for him?

Lance wanted a cigarette. He was never an avid smoker, but his mother and his older brother smoked at least a pack a day. Sometimes, when the world was too much, and his skin was too tight, he’d take one. Just to take the edge off. He swore it wasn’t often. 

But the devil’s in the details and there were no cigarettes in space. Strangely, he ached for the smell of smoke and nicotine the most. It was terrible, potent and all consuming, but he ached for it (He missed his mom. He’d do anything to see her, to hug her again, to smell the smoke in her clothes.) He missed flicking a lighter. Call him an arsonist, but he loved the power it gave him, being able to control just a little bit of flame. Even if it was small, he liked that he was the one to light it, or the one to extinguish it.

Maybe that was stupid, but Lance felt out of control for most of his life. He remembered the cigarette burns he had on his back shoulder, an old gift from a brother in law he hasn’t seen in a decade. His older sister had divorced him, but Lance still had the scars. He remembered falling off a bike and never being able to learn properly because he was too wobbly. He remembered the rejection letters to every school (“Mr. McClain, we regret to inform you-”). He remembered flying the blue lion for the first time, being thrust into space with no other choice. He remembered falling in love with Keith was like falling in love with a forest fire.

So yeah. Lance wanted a cigarette. But there were no cigarettes in space.

Lance was still sitting on the floor of the bathroom when the alarm went off. Lance sat and rubbed his eyes before using the counter to pull himself up. He had to move. 

He paused at the door scanner. He held his hand over it but didn’t unlock it. After a moment, he shook himself. Dios, Lance, you’ve got to go! 

His armor was still on the floor of Keith’s room. Lance started to fasten all the locks and little facets. Keith was running around, tugging on his armor, looking rabid. He wouldn’t look at Lance directly. He didn’t say anything either.

But when Lance was having a bit of trouble with the fasten on the back plate of the armor, he felt Keith’s hands push Lance’s own away and do it for him. We’re okay, Lance thought, we’re okay.

As soon as they finished, he and Keith ran down the hallways to their lions. Just before they parted, Keith gripped his hand, kissed him on the cheek, and said, “Lance. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“When do I ever? Be careful, Samurai!” Keith… might love him back?

All the way down to the hangar, Lance smiled. But the time had come for him to focus. He still wasn’t used to Red’s controls, and he needed to pay attention as much as possible (much more than he needed to for Blue) so he didn’t crash. 

Shiro stayed back at the castle. Regardless of Keith’s willingness to stay behind, it didn’t matter because Shiro still was having no luck with the Black Lion (some selfish part of Lance wondered if it was less for Shiro’s sake and more for his own). 

But for right now at least, Shiro seemed content to instruct from his position in the castle. Lance guessed that Keith would know more than he would though.

“Pidge, Keith! Take on the left flank!” Shiro yelled, “Hunk, get the middle!”

“Lance, Allura, use the ice/fire beams to create a distraction for the cruisers! Destroy their ion cannons! The castle will focus on the right flank!” Keith interjected.

It was kind of hard to pay attention to two sets of instructions at once, but Lance tried his best to focus in the midst of battle. Shiro decided that for this skirmish, they were best staying as lions. Keith argued Voltron would eliminate the threat faster. It was exhausting, but eventually Keith relented.

Lance destroyed several ships with his fire beam. On his left, he could see Allura successfully dismantling one of the cruisers ion cannons. 

“The particle barrier can’t take another hit! Eliminate the other ion cannon!” Shiro said. 

“We’re trying!”

Lance could hear the various yelling of the team. All of their voices meshed into one sound, and it was impossible for him to distinguish who was who. 

“Pidge, watch out!” 

“I need back up!” That was Keith. He could tell that much.

Lance flew faster than he ever had before. Allura could handle their flank. But Keith was nearly surrounded, and while Black was sturdy she could only take so much.

“Keith!”

It all happened so fast. Lance and him destroyed nearly a quarter of the left flank. Red was sustaining too much damage, but Keith needed his support. He encouraged Red to push through it, whispering to him like Lance had to Blue. 

“Sharp work, Samurai!” Lance yelled after he cut down a few ships at once. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Lance noticed something.

The ion cannon. It was charging up. But it wasn’t aimed towards the castle… What? 

He followed the angle with his eyes. It clicked. He made a decision. He flew. One second. Two. 

“KEITH, MOVE!”

“What, Lance!”

“LANCE, NO!”

Red rammed into Black. Lance smacked his head on the console and his helmet cracked. He could taste blood on his lips. He could feel words forming in his skin. lance, no. lance. no. no.

He could hear people screaming his name in the background. It was muffled and he was confused. What happened? The feelings of Keith’s hands carving words into his skin, and the bruising on the fruit, both faded away to smoke. 

-

The first thing he saw when he woke up was Keith’s eyes. The first thing he felt was Keith’s lips on his own.

The second thing he saw was his words on Keith’s skin.

“Did you miss me, Mullet?” Lance said roughly, his voice raspy with disuse. 

Keith punched him. It hurt. 

Lance tried again, “Is everyone safe?”

“Yes. They’re all fine. But you! You’re a dumbass! I hate you! I can’t believe you did that! I thought you were dead,” Keith’s voice broke on the last word and Lance felt his heart clench. Keith moved again and hugged him so tightly Lance thought he would have to go back in the healing pod because of lack of circulation.

“I love you too, Keith.”

Keith froze. Lance laughed nervously after he realized what he said. It’s not like he didn’t mean it, even though he’d been joking, though.

Keith said, taking a deep breath, “I know you just got out of the pod and you’re probably tired, but we need to like talk. I’m tired of running.”

“Yeah, uhm, okay,” Lance said, looking to the side, “Do you want to, uh, go back to my room? I need to, like, lay down.” 

“Of course. Don’t strain yourself.”

“Aw, you do care. I never thought I’d see the day!” 

Keith ignored him, grabbed his hand and pulled.

“How long was I in the pod for?” Lance sounded serious. He didn’t like the pods. Not after.

“A few days.”

“Keith, are you alright?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

-

So they finally talked it out.

The walk back to Lance’s room had been a bit awkward. 

How did you react to finding out that the person you were in love with, the person you’d slept with, not only returned your feelings, but felt them so deeply that you could see each other’s words? Lance thought he was going to die.

Keith’s fingers stroked the inside of his wrist. Lance could tell it was as calming for Keith as it was for him.

“What am I to you, Lance? I-I can see your words now. I had yours…. For a while now, but I never saw yours back until... I could ever since I saw you… I told you not to do anything stupid, dumbass! I thought you were going to di- leave me. And I-”

Lance kissed him. 

“I wish you had told me sooner. I wish I had told you sooner. Communication is a two-way street! We need to work on that, dude.”

Lance paused, “But I’ve loved you for a very long time, Samurai. And I’d like to be yours, if you’d let me.”

“Of course. This is cheesy, but if you’re mine, let me be yours. God- I’ve never done this before. I’m so awkward,” Keith was blushing furiously. 

Lance laughed, and it was a beautiful sound, “You’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

Lance meant it to lessen some of the tension, to make Keith laugh. Keith took it literally, but he kissed him, so Lance guessed it wasn’t too bad. 

When he pulled back, his eyes were dark and heavy lidded, “Lance. Te amo.”

There were new words on his body. Ones he would never forget. Lance grinned wider than he ever had before.

Lance was used to drowning. But now, he was ready to swim. For the first time in a long while, he was floating above the sea. For once, Lance could breathe.

“Would you consider this a bonding moment?”

“Yeah, just don’t forget it this time.”

-  
BONUS:

10 years in the future…

“Aww, babe! You had a crush on me?” Lance squeals.   
Keith rolls his eyes. 

“That’s so embarrassing!” Lance smirks. 

“We’re literally exchanging vows right now.”

“Still!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading this self indulgent piece of trash
> 
> unfortunately this continues as exactly as canon with keith leaving to go do shenanigans with the BoM but yeah
> 
>  
> 
> obv the last part is full credit to parks n rec thanks ily

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This is a reference to "Diary of an Oxygen Thief" which is literally my least favorite book ever, but I loved this line! Here's a link to my [review](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1561703.Diary_Of_An_Oxygen_Thief)
> 
> 2\. A military mess, a game of chess, where France is queen and kingless! We signed a treaty with a King who's head is now in a basket, would you like to take it out and ask it? Should we honor our treaty King Louis' head? Uh do whatever you want I'm super dead.
> 
> 3\. Todoroki is my son and I love him.
> 
> 4\. woman wept, the planet that rose and the ninth doctor visited ah my heart
> 
> tbh i have no idea how i had time to write this or even the motivation ive been feeling hella underinspired... ive just started on ssris and i feel like SHIT 
> 
> this was supposed to be 4k words max but now its like 14k or smth love myself.  
> i have all the chapters finished, so i'll probably post one every two days i still have to edit them!
> 
> please comment if you liked this!


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